Chasing Humanity
by DawnoftheNutter
Summary: Carlton has a secret, a past life that he's been meaning to put behind him, an old friend wants to drag him back...and Shawn is caught in the crossfire. Probably rated M for gratuitous moments of Cain brand violence and some swearing. There are no ships on these waters, unless you squint. Please read and review so I can improve my writing, many thanks.
1. Long Goodbyes only end in heartbreak

1

It hit him that no one actually knew who Lassie was for sure. Sure, he was an Irish thoroughbred of a man, but who was he really? He had like no back story to speak of, only talking briefly of a former wife and a few academy memories, while everyone else at the station had told him about their nannies and Aunt Giamaimmas. It's hard to judge a person who says so much but says so little…that sounded poetic.

The man in question had been acting particularly mysterious this week, when several hooligans vandalized a chapel downtown. He retracted into a hedgehog like state and disappeared for a day. The same group was found murdered in Kingsley Park two nights ago. Shawn managed to filch some security footage from a parking lot that had been in spitting distance of the park. Grinning manically, he knew he was going to one up Lassie's newbie if it was the last thing he ever did.

He held the tape in his hands, fingers tingling with sweet anticipation. The film was boring up until the time of the murder. There, Shawn stopped his pacing and stared at the CCTV footage in shock, an Irish mane appeared in the park, Crown Vic unmistakable.

The dark figure wisps in and out of the feed…a video glitch? The hoodlums approach the police chief from the parking lot. One faced the camera with a devilish grin, frighteningly black eyes mocked the viewer. It was a showdown.

They pulled out knives and guns, circling Lassiter as he just stood there. What happened next was a blur; eerie blurs slamming through the backs of the gunmen, blood spurting past shoulder blades like demonic wings. It was Mad Max, but without the dome.

Lassie flicked his wrist, blood flicked out in the brushing action. His wrists still glowed in the dark night. Shawn was too baffled to even come up with an explanation. He just witnessed Carlton Lassiter murder three men—tearing them apart with his hands. He paused the footage, raking his fingers through his hair.

Carlton Lassiter, father to be, genteel husband, law abiding citizen, possible Border collie and police chief is he didn't even know what to call this…a monster? He felt betrayed, so very betrayed.

The office was suddenly went dead silent. A soft creak and the sound of the baseball bat next to the door landed with a thump on the hardwood floor and Shawn felt a jolt, he jumped to a standing position. To his horror, Lassie was standing in the shadows.

"H-hey, Lassie, my man! How you doin'? Police Chief is a nice look on you…" trembling fingertips groped around his desk for a stapler, anything.

He regards Shawn calmly, shaking his head slowly…left to right, right to left. "I wish you hadn't seen that tape…give it to me." The veins in his hand glowed red as his palms outstretched towards mine.

"I just gotta' ask, man, why? Why did you kill them?" Shawn looked to the outstretched fingers in trepidation, his own reached for the tape, stuffing it back into a manila envelope, before handing it slowly over.

Lassie scoffed, rolling his eyes, "They were out for blood, Spencer. If I had let them live they would have had it. I'm sure a _psychic _such as yourself would understand." Lassie snarled, sarcasm dripped from his tongue like acid. He snapped, he officially snapped. He started stepping closer and closer, Shawn backed up further and further towards the wall, the door merely inches from his palm.

"Com'mon, let's go get some fried pineapple upside down cake and forget this whole-" Suddenly, Lassiter was inches from his face, his steely blues looking down on him in sadness.

"I can't Shawn. I had started a new life here, but it seems someone has it out for me. I have to erase evidence of me being here…you are a vital liability, Spencer." He turned and was quickly cast in shadows once again, the tape in his hands.

"You can't tell anyone." He turned his head, eyes full of remorse…Shawn was sure he was going to kill him, he just knew it. His eyes shut of their own accord, but then he heard a soft sigh then the door quietly click shut.

Lassie was gone, Shawn was wrong, apparently he was still human…ish. Shawn's knees flexed like jelly and he stumbled downward. He'd never been so scared, or so sad in his entire life. To be honest though, he was trying really hard not to run after him, there were so many questions. Way too many. And those were the questions that made thinking about existence seem like child's play.

Sleep was for the witches anyway…or was it the wicked? Oh well, he had heard it both ways.

Like expected, sleep didn't come. Morning hit and he was still in a daze. What should he do? Gus is gonna' want to know what was on that tape. Should he lie…yeah, that seems like the best option at the moment. It's either that, or Lassie's hands will start going all glowy-glowy and then there will be no more Shawn Spencer…Yeah, he's totally gonna' go with option number one.

Wiping the exhaustion from his eyes, ignoring the pins and needles in his legs, he starts to get up. He's certain he stashed some clothes in the office, but he just couldn't remember where. Sad really, he can remember what Jules had for breakfast 8 months ago, but Shawn couldn't remember where he shoved a clean shirt a week ago. Priorities, I guess.

After much searching, Shawn found what looked to be Gus' old plaid button up, that'll do. He finished changing and looked at the clock. 6:50, well, that's early. Maybe he could look into some old case files…He needed to know more about him. About Lassiter, he reaffirmed to himself, who was he before? What is he? Who is after him?

Why can't he actually be psychic? …He supposed it didn't matter anymore.

_xSN-Px_

Lassiter laid in bed next to Marlowe, who snuggled closer to his chest. Contented in her slumber. He, on the other hand, had not slept a wink, his thoughts plagued him badly.

Why did he have to be so nosy? Marlowe understood he was different. He, the Father of Murder, was cursed to live a life of isolation. So why couldn't Spencer let sleeping dogs lie?

He shouldn't be surprised really, he decided to be a detective, to help save lives—he just wanted penance. It wouldn't be that out of line that a demon or two would stumble on what he's been up to. But if any of the knights were able to find him, Marlowe, his baby were now endangered. Shawn too, he supposed, would be in dire straits. That idiot knew too much for him to go unnoticed.

He sat up, Marlowe's arm flopped back onto the bed, she snored lightly, completely unaware of his turmoil.

"I'm so sorry, my love." He pushed a blonde lock out of her face, she nuzzled into his palm. He needed to leave before any connection was made to her or SBPD. He grabbed his sig and his badge, momentarily pausing to admire the reflective surface and the memories. He could stay for one more night he thought.

He just managed to close his apartment door, before he noticed a disconcerting sight of a frowning Shawn Spencer.

"Please Lassie, I just need to know…what are you?" Hazel eyes pled at blue. Sighing, he locked the door and addressed Spencer.

"You need to know?" His lips pulled into a frown matching Spencer's. "You already know too much, they are going to kill you. I will not have your blood on my hands, Spencer." Shawn had no idea what he was getting into, how much red was on his ledger already.

"Yes, I've already made my choice." His arms crossed across his chest, reminding me a lot of his father and one other man he met years ago. His resolve was crumbling, his damned humanity fought to the surface.

"I'll tell you, but there will be consequences, do you understand?" Brown hair bobbed enthusiastically, though his eyes were filled with terror. He opened his mouth to speak before he sensed a dark presence near the end of the hall, they needed to leave.

"Come with me, we need to leave _now._" He gripped Shawn's arm, dragging him towards the elevator. Lights flickered faintly and a low rumbling could be heard.

"W-what? Hold the pineapple express, Lassie, what's going on!?" He looked behind long enough to see Hank the janitor turn the corner. Like the tape footage, his eyes were black as Santa Monica night sky, Shawn was pretty sure Hank's eyes were blue.

"Cain!" Hank yelled and Lassiter stiffened. Cain, was that his actual name? Hank pulled out a gun and Shawn yelped. Suddenly he was thrown into the elevator, Lassiter's arm glowed vibrantly underneath his sleeve as the elevator closed shut.

Lassiter watched as the door shut, relieved Spencer wouldn't be caught in the cross fire this time. Hank started firing his gun, the bullets having no effect as they impacted Lassiter's chest. Thankfully, Most of the bullets were through and through. He stepped forward and Hank dropped the gun going in for that hand-to-hand combat.

To the demon's defense, he was fast, but he was sloppy. He thought Collette would have to forgive him this one last time as he plunged his hand into the janitor's chest. Hank's body flashed as he crumpled to the ground.

Hank's slayer stood above him, blood dripping from his arm and rage coursing through his veins.

"Calm down, just calm down…" he forced his breath through his nose, forced the burning rage back into its seal. He turned around to see Shawn standing right behind him, eyes wide open.

"Dammit Spencer, why didn't you stay in the elevator?!" he panicked as Shawn stumbled backward, hand wrapped around his side. Lassiter rushed to grab him before he fell.

"Shit! Shawn, stay with me!" He couldn't help it, flashbacks of Collette's death ran through his head, emotions other than rage started bubbling and he choked back frustration.

"S-sorry, I couldn't leave you…Dad-d always said I was stubborn." He hiccupped as pain lanced through his side. Lassiter pulled Shawn's hand away to assess the damage, noting sluggish bleeding meant the bullet didn't hit anything too vital. But, there was still a chance of bleeding out if left untreated. He just killed Hank, calling an ambulance would just get complicated, but Shawn would need attention.

"Shawn, you are going to have to trust me…" He looked for any sign of confirmation. Blurred hazel eyes blinked lazily as he nodded. "Ok…this is going to hurt." He held up a finger, blazing red with demonic energy.

Shawn barely had time to tense before an even more fiery pain erupted in his side. "Gah! Please, Lass…stop!" his hands gripped around Lassie's, only to have his hands scorched by the searing heat.

Eventually pain gave way to darkness and Shawn went limp against the floor. Carlton finished before loading him up in his arms. They needed a safe place to stay.

"Carlton?" Marlowe's voice came timidly from the doorway. He cursed at my luck.

"Honey, I need you to call 911. Hank…" She cut him off.

"Take Shawn and get out of here. I love you Carlton, but you're too dangerous to be around us. You made a promise to Collette and to me that _this _wouldn't happen…" Lassiter opened his mouth to explain himself, she held up a finger. "You have a lot to make up for. When he forgives you, I will forgive you. I'll wait until then, my husband." His heart was cleaved right into, his breath seemed to stop at her words. His daughter whimpered in her mother's arms, she bounced her gently.

"I'm sorry, Marlowe…I'm so sorry." She watched as he and Spencer vanished into thin air, tears cascading down her face.


	2. Always in the Dark

2

Lassiter had found himself in the middle of a dingy apartment. A true bachelor pad, if he did say so himself. He had decided to stop at Shawn's place until he woke up, then he needed to decide what to do from there.

The sun had set before Shawn stirred even slightly. By 10 o'clock, Lassiter wondered if Shawn even wanted to wake up, he definitely sympathized. It wasn't until midnight when finally Shawn opened his eyes. He gazed at the ceiling momentarily, realizing he was in his bed, his gaze settled on Lassiter, eyebrow slightly arched.

"You know where I live? Dude, that is a little more than creepy." He sat up, wincing only slightly when his burnt side pulled.

"You work for me, remember?" He bit out starkly, sitting on the edge of the bed, he placed a cool towel on Shawn's side. Shawn hissed as pressure was applied to the hand mark branding.

"I had to cauterize the wound, while it wasn't fatal you were beginning to lose a lot of blood." He placed the towel back in a bowl before facing him calmly once again. Leaning forward onto his elbows, Carlton stared at the wall.

"We have two options here Spencer, neither of them are very good. It has become apparent that I gotta' leave immediately. And you, you stupid fool, know too much and they've seen your face. So you can either, stay here and hope they don't kill you, or you leave…" Shawn sat up quickly, indignant at the idea.

"Leave?! Where the hell am I supposed to go, huh? I built a life here! I was going to ask Jules to marry me! I'm supposed to leave that behind—."

"YES! Don't you get it?! You meddled in the affairs of the wrong person. They can kill you with the snap of a finger!" Lassies head snapped in Shawn's direction, eyes glowing in the dimly lit room. "I feel like some stupid angst ridden teenage when I say this, I'm too dangerous to be around." He shoved himself away from the bed, he walked to the bedroom door frame, before pausing.

"You've put yourself into this fight, Shawn. Marlowe and Juliet are in danger because of your actions today. Gus could be next. Demons have no qualms with taking your loved ones and using them like puppets—just to get to you. You are too naïve, Shawn, if you think you can walk out of this room and act like nothing has happened." He took a calming breath before continuing.

"You can come with me and I will teach you how to survive. But if you agree to do this, we are dead men, do you understand. Shawn Spencer is dead…Carlton Lassiter is dead." Shawn stared at the man at the foot of his bed in awe. Lassie, himself, felt like he was being selfish, was it right to drag in this _boy_ into his own little hell?

"But your family…what about them. Do you want Marlowe to be alone? Your daughter to grow up without a father?" Carlton gritted his teeth in anguish.

"Marlowe saw what I am…she saw a monster. A monster shouldn't be allowed to raise a child." Even though she never said those things, he saw in her eyes that she was terrified of him, of what he was.

Shawn shook his head in disbelief, "That was a low blow, man…I'm sorry…." He was ashamed to admit it, but he was sorry. He squirmed slightly in the bed, stopping momentarily when the burn kicked up, what he was going to say next was either ballsy or stupid, but he needed to know.

"What are you anyway? I kinda' got the whole superpower vibe, but there's more to it, I'm sure. Not-Hank called you Cain, you are either some super powered mutant…which is awesome by the way. Or… " Lassiter almost laughed hysterically at Shawn's antics. "You have got to be kidding me…Alright Shawn, seeing as you almost got yourself killed, I'll tell you what you _need _to know." He hunkered down on the dresser near the door, feet barely skimmed the course rug.

"My real name is Cain, son of Adam and Eve. I'm Father of Murder, I am a demon, Shawn." Shawn was thrown for a tail spin, a biblical figure was standing in his bedroom; it felt completely unreal. He wasn't religious by any means, but this was epic! Did that mean the big man upstairs actually existed? Well, he had a lot of explaining to do…

"So…you killed your brother Abel, god banishes you to the desert, and you live your life in isolation? Um...My grandma had me read the bible." Shawn blushed as Carlton's eye brows rose. "It must have been hard." He murmured quietly after much thought.

"It wasn't so bad. Just because I was 'cursed to be isolated' didn't mean I had to be lonely…loopholes are a demon's best friend. God decided I should have a bit of a temper, so I may have killed a few people now and again…" "Well that explains a lot of things." "Quiet. Do you want me to explain this to you or not?" He had a weak nod of a head. He thought about discussing the darker parts of his curse, but decided against it.

Luckily, Shawn yawned slightly, as much as he was interested in hearing an immortal's life story, he was exhausted. "Hey, Lass, I'm sorry about this man, but I'm really tired, if you want to take the couch…we should leave in the morning." His eyes were already slipping closed.

"Yeah, you're right. Goodnight, Spencer." He flicked off the lights before heading to the couch for some shut eye of his own. Tomorrow will hopefully bring some reprieve.

* * *

Hello everyone, there's chapter 2 for ya'. I hope it was alright. I have some interesting plans for Spencer, which may or may not be mentioned in the next couple of chapters. Chapter 3 will hopefully be posted by Saturday, so hang tight.

3 DawnoftheNutter~stay classy, my lovelies.


	3. Accidents Happen

3

Sun light filtered in the window and onto Lassiter's face, he actually fell asleep, how unusual. Shawn had actually woken up before he had and was at the kitchen table, with two plates of eggs and toast. "Living only on a Bachelor's fridge, you'd think that would've changed when I started dating Jules…"

Shrugging Carlton moved from the couch to the table. "Come on, don't be such a pile wet pancakes, Lassie. Dig in, we gotta' leave by 8." Carlton looked up confused, "What's at 8?" Shawn grasped a remote and flicked on the TV in the living room. Great…they were on ZNN already.

"_Just in, Police Chief Carlton Lassiter was attacked outside his apartment yesterday morning. Coworker, Shawn Spencer, Head Psychic Detective of SBPD, was witnessed by several inhabitants of the apartment building being shot near the elevators. The shooter, name was asked not to be disclosed at this time, was found eviscerated near the elevator. Not much information was given at this time, but both men are missing, one presumed critically injured. SBPD is conducting an investigation, more news to follow." _Shawn shut the television off, eyes set on Lassie's, "They're still conducting analysis on clues found at the scene, I seem to be missing a key. You have a torn sleeve, there is enough evidence to suggest you committed murder, Lassie. They may think we were working on something together, assuming scary detective lady is in charge, we have 2 hours before she'll head to my apartment or my office for more clues."

"Has anyone told you how scary you are when you act intelligent? Brannigan is a hell of a detective, knowing her, we may have less time than that." One dark eyebrow raised slightly as he sipped on his coffee. Spencer just may make a good hunter yet.

"It's all part of my charm, Lass-a-frass. That and I may have left some documents at the Psych office I need to grab before we go."…And there's the catch. Amusement aside, Shawn was limping towards a grey duffle bag on the floor, hissing slightly as he brought it up to the table.

"Alright, how's the side?" Shawn guffawed for a second, before replying, "Just peachy." He stood up slowly before walking into his bedroom. "Hey, Gigantor, what size are you?"

Curious Lassiter replied "Large…why?"

Shawn walked back in the kitchen hold up a Hawaiian T-shirt. "My dad left this here, your shirt is bloody and full of holes, and this is only bloody on the eyes. You might want to change."

He took the shirt and grunted, "Grab the things that are necessity only. Leave your phone and credit cards here. We can't have anything track us, do you understand?"

"God, you are worse than my father. Fine, fine…" Shawn limped through the apartment, quickly grabbing things he couldn't bear to leave behind. "Hey, I got Gus' credit card. I don't think he'll mind if we grab some fast cash, would he?"

"Good idea, they wouldn't think to look at Gus' financial history while they are still looking for us. We'll withdraw what we need while we are still in Santa Barbra." Shawn paused briefly staring down at the shiny piece of plastic in his hands, he still felt he was caught up in some horrific dream, but the pulsing pain in his side said otherwise. He wanted his father so bad it hurt.

"Ok…I got everything I think we'll need." He carefully pulled the duffle bag over his shoulder, careful not to pull at his wounds.

Lassiter paced nervously, it was getting too close to 8. "Swiss knife, lighter, flash light…" Shawn cut him off with a raised hand.

"Yes, yes, and yes…My dad did teach me how to survive in the wilderness." 7:30, they needed to get out of there…Shawn looked out his window, only to see police cars pull in "Shit! They're early! What do we do?" He looked around looking for an escape…there was the fire escape outside the bathroom.

"Lassie, this way!" They bolted through the apartment, trying not to knock anything over, Shawn bumped his wounded size against the counter, and he saw white as the air rushed out of his lungs. Seeing that the injury was slowing them down, Lassiter made an executive decision.

"Up you go." Lassie threw Shawn over his shoulder like he was nothing, putting the duffle bag on the adjacent shoulder. Maybe not the smartest idea, but time was of the essence.

They descended down the back side of the apartment, to where Shawn had stashed his slightly used blue 1968 Ford Torino. "Man, you had this kind of beaut, but you ride with Guster's mom-mobile?"

Shawn chuckled, "I won it off a man in Mexico, said I couldn't eat 3 Habanero peppers in under a minute. After a quick trip to the hospital I found this girl sitting in my parking spot." Shawn's voice was slightly gravely from pain, but he seemed no worse for wear.

"Let's get out of here, there is an exit to your left." Sure enough a clear line of sight to the street greeted Lassiter. The car sputtered to life eventually settling to a low purr as he put the clutch into first gear and started out of the parking lot.

"I'm assuming you know to get to my office right?" Shawn slumped down in his seat, his side killing him. So far, no blood, but that may not be true for that much longer. The car ride was silent, the Santa Barbra coast was an odd calm compared to their current whirlwind.

"Spencer, you alright?" Carlton, an immortal, caring about the short existence of Shawn Spencer? It really was touching.

"Yeah, I think I'm good, just—Ah! There she is, Lassie, pull over." Shawn saw the Blueberry parked outside of the office. He would need stealth skills, not really his strong suit at the moment.

"Tell me what you need." Lassie noticed the same thing as well.

"Well there are two manila files pertaining to the…demon incident, it would still have enough evidence to convict you, and a green file in the filing cabinet marked 'Lease'. Grab the whole thing if you can, Gus may have looking through it recently." Before he turned to look at Lassie, he was already gone, car still running. He blinked and he was back in his seat, files in hand.

"How..." the words died on his lips, what just happened?

"Demon, remember?"Carlton supplied.

Unable to say anything else, he nodded and grunted,"Right."

They drove west, Shawn remembered a friend in Missouri that would probably let them crash at his cabin.

At nightfall, they reached a little town right outside of Albuquerque, Shawn ran into an old friend, Enrique, from south of the border, and he and Lassie had lodging for the night.

"So my friend, what brings you out to Santa Rosa?" Enrique's thick Spanish accent, made it hard for Lassiter to understand, but to Shawn it was perfectly clear. Shawn sat awkwardly in his chair, Enrique was different from what he remembered. The tattoos crawling up his arms were nothing new, but the dark look in his eyes were unsettling.

"Me and a friend are going to Texas, won a free stay at a hotel. My girl dumped me, so I decided to have a bro-week." He lied easily, Lassie hid any reaction by looking out the window pretending to be interested in the view.

"That's too bad about the girl, man, you look kind of peaky, you alright?" There was the Enrique he knew, he relaxed a little. "Yeah, it's just been a long day. If you don't mind I'm going to head off to bed, thanks again man." Enrique looked at Shawn momentarily, expression blank before smiling ear to ear. "It's no problem, man. Get some sleep, you're going to need it."

Lassie stiffened as Shawn went upstairs. Enrique's eyes were solely on him, "Why are you here, wanderer?" his accent shifted to an easy Midwestern accent, his eyes flickered to red.

"Who are you?" Lassiter had all intention of ending this demon, but refrained because the man possessed was innocent of all this.

"I'm merely an observer, Cain. Do not worry, I do not work for Abaddon. However, Crowley is in desperate need of your services." A reptilian smile stretched over the demon's face, making him appear more snake than man.

"Nahash, it's been awhile. How've you been? I see you're not crawling around anymore, that's _definitely_ a step up. Thanks for casting my parents out of the garden by the way, sure was nice of you." Lassiter bared his teeth at the ancient being.

"What can I say? Lucifer certainly had a way with words." Red eyes crinkled into a grin, "I had no part in what you did to your brother—that was all you." With smooth movements, Nahash glided to a small china cabinet, pulling out a light amber liquid and two glasses.

"I was used!" Cain's rage was boiling over, his arm pulsed and he reminded himself to calm down.

Nahash smile didn't falter, but his eyes glowed like embers, a dull rage brewing beneath the surface. "So was I, but the big man decided the victims should still be punished instead of the offender. Come, let's have some tequila." He slid into a chair at the dining table, a shot glass of tequila slid into Carlton's direction.

"Just so you know, I still want to kill you. This doesn't change anything." He trudged over and sat down, he picked up the shot glass and knocked it back, savoring the burn that slid down his throat.

"I know. But right now, we are both working towards the same goal: kill Abaddon and get back to life as usual." Nahash hissed before taking another sip. "Just so you know, this Enrique fellow isn't my actual host body, he's just on loan, if you kill me, you'll be killing an innocent…well, somewhat innocent man. Has quite the track record, this one."

Lassie pulled another shot before knocking that back as well. "Yeah, I had that figured. It's in your nature, you snake."

The two sat in paranoia of each other until morning, barely daring to breathe if it meant the other's advantage. Soon, they both heard Shawn walking about upstairs and they pulled on a false sense of rapport as Nahash shifted back into Enrique.

"Shawn, your friend nearly drank me under the table last night! I had to pull out my finest tequila too." Shawn's all too pale face had only a ghost of a smile as his friend recanted his tale of last night's drinking extravaganza.

"Lassie, we should get going." He grabbed the duffle bag and headed towards the Torino. "I'll be in the car… it was good seeing you again, Enrique." He waved and exited the house.

Enrique held the same smile until the door closed, with a soft click Nahash turned to Lassiter lips down turned, "Your friend is not going to make it to Missouri if you don't get him some medical attention soon. He smells like death, worse than you do." His voice grave and serious, with a curse Lassiter ran out to the car.

Shawn was passed out in the passenger's seat, hand clutched tightly around his abdomen. "Come on, lem'me see, Shawn." He muttered as he pried off Shawn's arm. Blood had seeped through to the coat liner, it smelt old…meaning he had been bleeding throughout the night. What's worse there could be internal bleeding now that Shawn kept moving around, he saw deep bruising which confirmed his fears.

"Spencer, open your eyes." He tapped his face lightly. Getting no response, he hopped into the driver's side and took off to the nearest clinic.

* * *

You know what makes this author happy? Reviews...nice, long, constructive reviews.


	4. Worse than Grey's Anatomy

4

Carlton sat in the waiting area nearest the ICU. Two powerful auras, both mostly human caught his attention. Two men, presumably brothers, judging by their smell, stood waiting in matching plaid looking for their uncle Bobby. The blonde nurse looked at the two grimly and led them away.

He caught a glance of a old-timey pistol in the shorter man's waist band and he recognized it immediately as the Colt. He feared these two could prove to be trouble if he wasn't careful.

"Family of Shawn Roddick?" Lassie's ears perked at the sound of the alias. He looked at short and stocky nurse, her chocolate brown eyes stared sympathetically into his, her chubby face pulling into a comforting smile. Her name was Abby according to the name tag.

"I'm his uncle, Tom Roddick. Can I see him?" He hoped the nurse would buy it, for extra measure he let his face show his concern and anxiety.

"Alright Tom, Shawn's right this way. You're lucky to get him here when you did. Poor boy had internal bleeding near the colon. If you'd waited, he would have been 6 feet under." She placed a comforting hand on the older man's shoulder. He smiled awkwardly, trying to shake her hand off quietly.

"Is he awake?"Abby shook her head in the affirmative and nudged him to walk with her.

Halfway down the hallway, he ran into the two from earlier. They were leaning against the bed old man in a bed, gauze wrapped around his head.

Recognition flashed in the back of his head. Was that Bobby Singer? He felt a moment of sorrow as the two hovered silently over the other hunter. It had been ages since he last saw the man with John Winchester, he didn't even recognize him laying there. While Singer wasn't dead, his clock was counting down and Lassiter sensed that his time was almost up. With a twitch he sent some of his demonic energy towards the prone man, hoping it would be enough to give him his last words. He watched as old eyes fluttered opened, and then he moved on…like he always did.

He heard the blaring tones as the heart monitor no longer registered a pulse. Abby look for the most part unaffected by the elder man's death.

She paused momentarily outside the ICU room, "He's a little incoherent right now from the morphine, but he's awake. Regular visiting hours still apply, 45 minutes per guest. I won't kick you out, but you need to let him rest." Abby's withered face pulled in a small smile, hoping to convey a message.

"Yes, of course…" What of insurance? He hadn't faked insurance coverage since the 1850's, he was_ more_ than a little rusty. Both he blocked out the blaring alarm from the room next door, Shawn's number was not up, not yet. And that's all that mattered.

Shawn was in and out for three days, if only he was a demon that could heal... The air in the hospital was making Carlton antsy, the longer they stayed, the more electrified it became. The second night they were there, he watched as those two boys took off with Bobby's body in the dead of the night. Mildly impressed at the elder one's stealth. The same couldn't said of the younger brother, he had as much grace as a moose. He could sense immense power from both of them though, light and dark—they both had a purpose, of that he was sure.

He turned his attention back on Spencer. The boy was as pale as the bed he was lying on, but his vitals had improved drastically from the day before last. As soon as he woke up, they were going to have to run. He's been on CCTV cameras too long for his liking and he's pretty sure the blonde nurse was possessed.

The morning of the third day was a bright and sunny Monday morning, but Carlton felt particularly agitated. Something was about to go down if they didn't get out of there soon.

"Come on, Shawn. You need to wake up." He sighed, when he only had light puffs of air as a response.

"Good morning, Mr. Roddick. Anything?" Abby came in with a cart. "No, nothing." Carlton bent and stretched his spine. She waddled quickly to Shawn's side, doing various physical tests.

"Good iris contraction…reflexes are fine. Let's see how your side is doing, shall we?" She pulled up the shirt to see a hand print scorched onto his side, she frowned at the sight of it. Still pink and blistering, she applied a cold compress to it, then dousing the burn with water, clearing away the puss and blood from the wound.

She began to hum a soft gospel tune, much to Lassiter's annoyance. While her singing was beautiful, an annoying buzz filtered into his ears, but he remained silent as she finished.

"Despite the horrific burn to his side, he is almost good as new. I'll let Doctor Murser know and Shawnie-boy here will be given something to make him less drowsy." True to her word, Abby had gotten the Doc to get him off the meds by noon. Shawn still drug addled smiled lazily, blabbing about incoherent things...Carlton wondered if Shawn had regressed to a two year old. He supposed he could get away with a nap until Shawn sobered up a little more.

Four hours pass and hazel eyes crack open. Shawn felt like he had the biggest hangover, like ever. He looked up into the hallway and saw a pretty nurse at the station. She glanced at him coldly, her eyes nearly a coal black, he suppressed a tense, but began shaking Lassiter's leg.

"Lass…Lassie" Carlton had been resting in the side chair when Shawn made his first coherent word in three days. He jumped to his feet at the sound of Shawn's voice. The blonde nurse stopped dead in her tracks outside the room, just standing and waiting to pounce.

"Shawn, we need to get out of here." Shawn weakly nodded before his head flopped back onto the bed, there were still drugs in his system...dammit. "Dammit Spencer." Gritting his teeth, he shifted himself and Shawn out to the car. Lights outside the hospital started to go haywire and dark presences started filtering into the hospital as soon as his butt touched the leather seat.

Just in the nick of time. He sighed in relief momentarily before huffing in annoyance. That familiar habit nervously checking over his shoulder when things got too quiet, while it was useful he could never relax. He took one look at Shawn, who was struggling to keep his eyes open, and turned the engine over and went on the road again.

* * *

Back in the hospital, Abby was splayed out on the ground, throat slit and blood gushing into a black bowl. The blonde nurse stood over her callously as she spoke, "My king, Cain and the human escaped. Abaddon is still trapped…but my lord! Yes, my lord, I understand." With a sigh of annoyance, and a gust of energy, the demon ejected itself from the nurse, toppling her to the floor.


	5. A Demon and Human walk into a Diner

5

Shawn woke up to a long stretch of road and a dull roar in his ears. "What hit me?" he gasped trying to sit up. The burning in his side had dulled to a mild annoyance since the last time he was up.

"Your stupidity almost got you killed again. Why didn't you say you were bleeding?" Lassie looked straight ahead, not bothering to shoot Shawn a glare, his fists were white on the steering wheel.

Shawn didn't answer right away, why didn't he say anything? He just remembered being uneasy around Enrique. There was a vibe he couldn't shake, very slippery and reptilian.

"Dunno', Carlton." Carlton took notice of the lack of nickname, his eyes flicked over towards his 'charge.'

Shawn viciously raked through his hair. "I didn't feel safe last…how long was I out?" his voice cracked when he couldn't recall what happened that morning.

"You passed out" he ignored Shawn's huff of annoyance, "Friday morning. It is now almost Tuesday, so you do the math…" Shawn's eyes were wide as saucers as he realized the implications.

"Nearly four days, huh?" Shawn looked tensely out the rearview mirror "…none of those Jeepers Creeper's guys followed us right?" Lassiter shrugged, making a non-committal noise unsure if they were actually followed. Peering through the rearview mirror, he saw nothing, just road and tumble weed.

"Where are we anyway?"

"Oklahoma."

"I'm hungry. Do you think Oklahoma has jerk chicken?"

"How would I know? We'll get something at the next stop…" Not even a minute later, "Are we there yet."

"Spencer!" The demon-turned-police officer had to resist the urge to slap Shawn a second face.

It wouldn't be until morning that they reached Depew, Oklahoma. At that point Shawn nearly charged out of the car to get into the restaurant, side be damned. It was Pig in a Poke Tuesday, and he was getting his damn pancakes.

"Spencer…put some clothes on!" Shawn stopped dead when he realized he was still in his butt-flattering drapes. Lassiter threw a pair of sweats and a hoodie from the trunk in his direction. After several minutes of cussing and grimacing, Shawn looked slightly more presentable. The clothes looked baggy due to Spencer's lack of food for the past eight days and the gray hoodie did nothing to hide the similar pallor of the fake-psychic's face, but it would do.

It was a small diner with four booths and three tables. A retro 1960s counter lined one side of the small room, and a window to the kitchen nestled right by the cash register.

An elderly woman by the name of Marge took one look at Shawn and took out the note pad and offered them a booth.

Shawn ordered the largest meal he could think of while Carlton just ordered a cup of coffee. They heard Marge yell at the cook to double the order size and they had a "skinny one." Shawn's eyes and grin widened in anticipation.

Marge arrived at the table with six pancakes and eight sausages and a full plate of eggs. Marge gave Shawn a wink, briefly mentioning the second serving was on the house. He looked on the verge of tears. She left Shawn and Lassiter to finish their meals.

With much gusto, Shawn managed to down three pancakes and two sausages before he was completely full, he passed the sausage, eggs, and hash browns in Lassie's direction, who silently started nibbling at the eggs.

"You're a demon, right? That means you have a hell of a metabolism." Shawn made a puckered face, he said in a cheesy fake Italian accent "eat, you too skinny" he threw his hands up in the air for effect. Carlton stared at him like he had gone mad.

"Spencer…shut up." Regardless, he took the plate and began devouring the eggs. Marge came back with a fresh round of coffee.

"Hello boys, how was everything? Very odd to have strangers around these parts." A new customer walked in and waved at Marge. Shawn and the man made eye contact. "Alfie?" the man in turn broke into a huge smile.

Carlton sensed grace exuding from Alfie the moment he walked in the restaurant and he tried desperately to suppress his own aura, but Alfie looking straight at him would not help.

"Shawn Spencer? It has been awhile. How've you been? I haven't seen you since the turn pike incident in Tulsa."

Shawn chuckled at the memory, "Those were good times. Hey Alfie…me and a friend are going out east, do you still own that farm in Washburn?" Alfie looked at Lassiter with wide eyes, mouth in a rigid frown.

"I dunno' Spence. If was just you, I would gladly lend you my home. I don't know _who_ your friend is though." Carlton recognized that tone and that mannerism as Samandriel, he couldn't help but roll his eyes and the angelic human-lover.

"I'm…was the Chief of Police, if that makes you feel any better. I protect people…so no need to worry. I'm keeping your friend safe" Well…try to…Carlton looked expectantly at 'Alfie,' who looked at him cautiously.

"I guess a night won't hurt, just if a woman named Naomi stops by make sure _he _(pointing to Lassiter) stays upstairs. She bought the farm, but is letting me live there as a tenant, so her word is law, got it? "

Shawn grinned enthusiastically, "Thanks man, this really means a lot."

Alfie half returned the smile, the corners of his mouth strained to stay up. Lassie and Shawn finished what was left of their meal and waited for their new companion to finish his own.

It was a little after one when they approached the cottage. Exhausted and frankly rank, Lassiter trudged into the bathroom to take a shower.

Downstairs, Alfie and Shawn sat in the kitchen. One stared cautiously at the stairs, while the other tried to make idle chitchat.

"You need to get away from him, Shawn. That man is dangerous." Shawn swore he heard a bird fluttering in the kitchen. Shawn not getting the hint stared at him uncomprehendingly.  
"Alfie, he's just helping me out, is all." Alfie looked stricken.

"You didn't sell your soul, did you!?" Lights started flickering in the kitchen and dark clouds loomed outside the kitchen window.

"What? No! Can you even do that? Alfie, you know who Lassie really is, don't you?" Shawn lent over the table, fingers steepled in front of his mouth.

"I-I don't know what you mean." Blue eyes looked off to the left, his pulse visibly quickened.

"You're terrible liar that lies. You're sweating more than a fat man in a marathon. Alfie, buddy, you see, he saved my life so many times in the past couple of days, I owe him. So don't be such a wound spring, it will make your hair fall out."

"If you stay with him, he will either kill you or get you killed." Shawn paused at his words, he could live with that.

"I'm a dead man no matter what I do." Alfie looked at him, long and hard.

"No, Shawn. You are much more important than a dead man. Obviously now this won't make sense to you, but you have a purpose. It was foretold many eons ago by my father. You will destroy hell."

"Excuse me?" Shawn was flabbergasted, just two weeks ago he was sitting on a beach drinking pineapple smoothies with his best friend, unaware that anything supernatural existed. Now, he was expected to put an end to it? Whaaaaat?

"Did you get dropped on your head? You aren't making any sense. I can't become some bad ass—I'm already my own bad ass, but that is beside the point. I have no idea what to do?" He stood up, knocking the chair over. He suddenly felt the need to flee rising and he knew never to doubt a gut feeling. "Carlton, hurry up!"

"It seems you do not believe me." Alfie's hand reached towards Shawn's face. "What are you-!" it was too late, the pads of Alfie's fingertips rested softly on Shawn's cheek.

Images flashed haphazardly, making it hard to decipher, but it make sense at the same time. Abel. Dying. Cursed. His head pounded in his skull as it was taking in the information at an astronomical speed. He heard screaming, he wanted whoever was doing it to stop, it hurt too much to hear, he realized it was coming from him. So much death, so much fear—this was definitely not in the job description.

He heard yelling as he collapsed onto his knees, he looked up to see a soaked and furious Lassie, and then he blacked out.

_xSNPx_

At first, when Shawn told him to hurry up, he thought Shawn wanted the shower for himself. So Lassie didn't react right away. He was almost done, anyways.

But then, Lassie heard the terrible scream as he went towards the bedroom to change. He rushed downstairs to see Samandrial's hands on Shawn's ashen face. Blood was gushing from his nose as he shook underneath the angel's fingertips. How dare him!?

"Step away from him!" He all but screeched. Demonic energy flooded through his arms as he took a swing. Samandrial ducked, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow to the solar plexus. The room though in the light of the afternoon sun, glowed an ominous red as Cain took over.

"You're dead!" He bared his teeth at the angel, who shrunk back a little, but did not remove his hands. Shawn sputtered and looked up at him before going boneless onto the ground.

"Abel is unharmed. He needed to know his purpose. I am merely guiding him." Samandrial's blue eyes glowed an icy blue, before he vanished from view.

Shock at the name caused Cain to pull desperately at the recesses of his mind, wanting to case after the angel and tear him limb from limb, starting from the wings to the groin. But Carlton kept himself in control, worry presiding over Shawn outweighed the need to kill.

"Take what you need and then be gone Cain, I don't want to see you when I return." Samandrial shook his head in pity before taking off.

"Shawn, open your eyes. Can you do that for me?"

"So many Lassie-faces. I'm having a major sense of déjà vu, how 'bout you?" Shawn began to wonder if all his old friends were actually some freakazoid entity out to get him.

"Your friend got away. What'd he do to you?" The blood leaking from his nose stopped.

"I don't really know. Just a whole bunch of images and then nothing…We should get going." Shawn went upstairs quickly to grab some supplies and to wash up. He didn't feel so bad about stealing from Alfie, mainly because he just nearly had his brain microwaved by said 'friend.'

"Alright, Clearwater is about another five hours or so, you have everything?" Shawn huffed passed with an overloaded duffle bag. He felt oddly like an angst ridden teen at the moment, and decided to put on his best rendition of his teenage years.

"Yes, _dad…_" the screen door flopped shut as Shawn sulked out towards the car. The blue, already beat up and chipping, had a fine layer of sand and tarnish. Shawn looked tenderly at his car, at his memories, "we're gonna' fix you up all nice and pretty like, isn't that right?" he put the duffle bag in the trunk and sat in the leather seat, waiting for Lassiter.

Carlton slid into the driver's seat, key fluidly finding its way into the ignition. Sun glasses on, he was ready to go. "Alright. Let's roll out"

xXSPNxPsychXx

Another chapter is done, ya'll. I hoped you enjoyed it. Please let me know what I need to work on. I'm mainly doing this for myself, but if I entertain too, that would be awesome. Have an amazing spring day, my lovelies, for I am certainly not with the SNOW. *mass sobbing*


	6. Cottages on a Prairie

Chasing Humanity 6

Shawn and Lassiter had been driving for what seemed like ages, but in reality was merely two hours. Shawn called his friend Tripp Vanderbelt, whom he had met when he had just turned twenty and passing through Missouri.

Tripp had saved him from actual death. Shawn had purchased a Hyundai crotch-rocket, bright red with black leather saddle…of course he would want to test drive it. He made a pass on country road and just so happened to annoy the only other vehicle on the road, who just so happened to have legitimate road rage.

The driver pushed him off a road and into a creek in a ravine. He broke three ribs, cracked his femur, and received a concussion that would make a footballer cringe. Tripp had been fishing a little upstream from Shawn's crash site and bolted over. Shawn's last thought of consciousness was he finally saw big foot.

Tripp stayed with Shawn in the hospital, even after he woke up. Shawn realized that behind the coarse, black and frizzy beard, lied the face of a teddy bear. Tripp was more concerned about a stranger than his own safety. Risking himself to even grab the bike out of the deep creek.

Shawn left for Chicago a week after his hospital stay, but he and Tripp had remained in contact. He even offered to come to Missouri when Tripp was asking about dating advice.

As the phone was ringing, Shawn smirked in remembrance of Tripp's flustered voice as he called about dating advice. He had met this girl named Daisy, short and sweet, but with the temper outmatching Shawn's dad. Apparently, she was a fire-cracker, Shawn had no idea what this girl looked like, but she would of have to have been something for Tripp to notice her…he was a bit oblivious when it came to women—living in the woods tends to do that to a person.

A light click entered his ear as someone answered the phone, "Hello?" a very soft feminine voice answered the phone, definitely not Tripp, unless there was an accident. "Uh, hi…My name is Shawn Spencer, does a Tripp reside in your residence?" He said quickly with mock professionalism.

There was a light pause before she responded. "I'm his wife. Tripp's outside tending to the bees. So you best be telling me what you want, darlin.'" He felt his mouth drop in shock, big foot got married? And he didn't tell him? That was kind of hurtful.

"You said your name was Shawn Spencer? Tripp said somethin' about you giving him dating advice all those years back…I ought'a say, you seemed a right smooth talker back then, now you're all frozen up. Speak." This has to be Daisy, the sassy, straight-forward talking fits the description.

"Daisy? Forgive me, I remember Tripp talking about you, I didn't think he'd actually ever settle down. Listen, I need a major favor, I need to crash at your place a couple of nights. Would that be alright?" He heard a light hum, she was probably contemplating her response.

"Sure. The door will be unlocked when you get here. I presume you know where to go?" There was no questioning in her tone, she knew he knew. And that kind of unnerved him. "Yeah, thanks again."

"Anytime, darlin.' And tell your friend to not be shy." How did she know? He was going to ask but heard the dial tone and hit the call end button on his phone.

"Lassie, we got a place to stay until we can figure out a game plan." Lassie glanced over at Shawn, expression relieved and exhausted. Even for an immortal, he still needed sleep, something he hasn't had in week. Shawn realized he was not helping matters by getting into trouble so damn much. He promised himself he would be more proactive in his own safety.

xXSPN_PXx

The cottage sat prettily on a vast green meadow. Lassiter noted how peaceful it looked, the bees slightly alarming him, he tended to have a natural aversion to bees ever since…um, forever. He parked the car in the gravel driveway and nearly broke the door trying to get out. It had felt like forever since he was last outside of that forsaken car. And to make matters worse, Shawn had not said a word since they had left Alfie's house…needless to say, it was an awkward car ride.

Shawn sat quietly in the passenger's seat looking at Lassiter stretch outside the car. He felt terrible about pulling Lassie away from his family. Bringing this whole supernatural business into his own life. If he hadn't of been so damned nosy, he could be waking up next to Jules instead of the passenger's seat of a broken down car.

Not to say he was jaded about the whole situation, it was in his nature to be inquisitive. But he'd like to catch a break once in a blue moon.

Deciding not to be a humbug, he got out of the car. He noticed quickly how muggy it was and it felt so much better than the dry heat of Oklahoma. The cicadas buzzed loudly in the tall, tall grass that seemed to go for miles and miles over rolling hills and vanishing into great pine forests. This place was more majestic than he remembered it to be.

His hands rested against the wooden post of the wire fence, almost afraid to see how different his friend was. They hadn't spoken since he moved back to Santa Barbra, if he doesn't remember him…

"Shawn?" A low rumble travelled through the screen door. A dark shadow towered in the door frame. The door swung open and Shawn was enveloped in a hug that rivaled most wrestling moves.

"Tripp, long time, no see, buddy. How's it been?" Shawn gasped out as massive arms crushed his rib cage.

"Baby, can't you see you're squishin' him like a mosquito?" A small dark women exited from the house. Shawn looked at her in awe, she was beautiful. Everything about her was the colour of gold, from her honey colored eyes to matching complexion, she exuded this mothering vibe that complemented Tripp's fathering nature, perfectly.

"Ah…sorry, Shawn. I forget my own strength, isn't that right, sweetheart?" He laughed heartily, his green eyes crinkling into an amused rainbows.

"I got supper on the table, best you eat up before it gets cold." She patted her hands against the creamy yellow apron tied around her waist. "Come on, sweetthang.'" She motioned to Carlton, who stared flabbergast at the women's boldness. Looking quickly to Tripp, who seemed to not care his wife was hitting on a stranger.

Dinner, while not extravagant, was certainly entertaining. Tripp regaled the tales of when he and Shawn chased some kids pretending to be Wendigos. Lassiter bit back a snarky comment about them being too fat, Daisy looked at him amusedly, seemingly knowing what he thinking. Shawn nearly started a food fight of mash potatoes and collard greens, before he was attacked by a wooden spoon, courtesy of the matron.

"We have sticky buns, honey fresh off the farm. Some sweet tea, mint from the garden. Dig in boys, I don't get to do a lot of entertaining out in these parts." Her tiny hands set the large dish of glorious looking desserts on the table. Anyone would be a fool to not dig in.

For once, Lassiter was the first to pass out that night, curled up right on the sofa, his fifth pastry half eaten on the wooden coffee table. "Why isn't that so precious?" Daisy brought a wool blanket out of chest near the stone fireplace.

"He usually doesn't sleep around strangers." Shawn remarked in appreciation, he knew Lassie needed the rest. "Why don't we turn in for the night?" He suggested, pointing out that they might wake Lassie, if they themselves decided to stay up longer.

The cottage was quiet and peaceful, and for once everything was beginning to feel normal again.

The next morning, Shawn woke up at sunrise, the sun gleaming right over the hillside and into his window. He went to the kitchen to make breakfast for his hosts. Over in the living area, Carlton was still tucked in a ball on the couch, snoring like no tomorrow.

Tripp exited his bedroom and looked surprised Shawn was up. "Well, goodness me…what are you doing up this early?" Tan fleshy fingers groped around the kitchen for some coffee, grey-green eyes looking solely on Shawn curiously.

"I just felt awake, I guess…Do you mind if I help you today on the farm? We can talk and catch up?" Tripp's eyes widened, then sparkled in childlike glee.

"Why, of course! Shall I teach you the ways of bee farmin'? You're goin' to have a fun time. I'll make sure Daisy has some of her special lotion for bee stings ready when we get back."

"Aw~ Come on, man! Have a little faith in me, will you?" Shawn held a pouty face until Lassie's snore over powered the whining noise he was making. They snickered lightly and ate their breakfast in a contented silence.

The two left shortly thereafter, leaving Daisy and Lassiter to sleep.

xXSPN_PXx

Lassiter woke up to a bird pecking at the window. He moaned and shifted away from the noise, but alas to no reprieve. Five seconds later he threw a throw pillow at the window.

"That's not what those are for, darlin." Daisy sat in the kitchen area sipping on her tea. Her eyes looking like amber in the morning sun.

"Sorry." He felt genuinely embarrassed, but then noticed a second cup full of tea on the counter. Daisy saw his eyes trail to the tea and motioned him to sit on the stool.

"Not going to stay warm all day." She pushed the cup forward with a finger, lazily taking a sip of her own.

"Lemon tea, good for what ails ya.' At least, that's what daddy used to say." She looked like she was on the verge of blurting something out. With nearly twenty or so years on the Santa Barbra Police Department, he was able to tell when someone had something important to say.

"You have something you want to say?" A quick flash of surprise was overturned by amusement.

"My, my…brains and beauty. Ain't that a surprise?" He wasn't sure if she was serious or just plain crazy. He raised an eyebrow hoping she would explain.

"I knew ya'll were coming from a dream. I know who you are, who Shawn is…I know he don't know. You can't tell him either, can you?" A psychic? Just how many supernatural entities does Shawn actually know?

"Do you know how much danger you are putting yourself in by letting us stay here?" She seemed to scoff lightly at his concern.

"Please, just 'cause I'm tiny doesn't mean I don't pack a punch. Just ask Tripp. Besides, you're here. Shawn, when he realizes will be similar. There is one more who's a comin', but he's a long ways away, right now. The future bearer of Cain." Lassiter nearly spewed his tea.

"Excuse me? What'd you just say?" Does this mean his curse can be lifted? At the cost of another though…

"Well, I don't have the clearest of sight, but he's a mighty handsome man, maybe more handsome than my husband." She was getting off topic, she didn't want to discuss the vision too much by the sounds of it.

"Alright, alright…where are Shawn and Tripp anyway?"

"Tripp's out with the bees, Shawn's probably with him. I would be too if I weren't so deathly allergic. Funny how that is…marrying a beekeeper and all." She laughed sipping her tea, eyes tinged with a small darkness.

"Why'd you marry him? He could get you killed."

"Don't be a fool. I love him, his lifestyle might kill me, but at least I'd be with him." She knew he was talking about himself and his own wife. She needed to drill it into him though; whatever was eating at him wasn't his fault.

"You can't change who you were, only shape what you become. If you find someone who accepts those past events, they can help you better yourself. You getting me, child? It isn't your fault. Now drink your damn tea." Carlton blushed and sipped at his tea.

xXSPN_PXx

Hello, my lovelies. That's it for this (month's) chapter. I apologize for lack of uploads. Finals have had a proverbial spork up my butt, and I only have week vacation before I take some summer courses (goodness me). I'm giving ya'll some reprieve, but don't expect the happy to last too long (p.s. George R.R. Martin is my role model :D ). Oh yeah, I mentioned some Dean...he's still ways off, but he may make a cameo or two in a couple of chapters. Please be patient with me, I have scenes and ideas in mind for some up coming chapters. I hope you have enjoyed the story thus far.


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